Rubber Ducky School of Clowncraft and Stupidity
by Lordy Duffano
Summary: Harry Potter is hoping for a nice quiet year at Hogwarts. As usual, he's not going to get one. But for once, the reason will make you laugh. Welcome to Rubber Ducky School of Clowncraft and Stupidity. Hide the children.... No, I was serious... hide them.
1. The Beginning

A/N: Oh my God… I just want to apologize in advance…. This thing is going to be so STUPID and INSANE that you really should just get the hell out while you still can. And I am NOT JOKING!

Summary: Harry Potter & Co. are sent to clown school by mistake. Don't ask. Just please don't ask. My friend thought of it, but she didn't want to do it. So I'm doing it. I have had TOO MUCH SODA today.

* * *

Harry Potter really wanted to go back to Hogwarts. It was the undefined summer between two unspecified years at Hogwarts, where most FanFictions seem to take place.

But anyway, Harry Potter really wanted to go back to Hogwarts.

Sadly, Harry Potter is not going to go back to Hogwarts. Because I am an insane writer who has had too much sugar. But that is beside the point. The point is, I'm skipping the rest of the summer. Because nothing amusing ever happens in the summer anyway, and I just wrote that for a little exposition. Let us rejoin our characters on the Hogwarts Express.

"Hey Ron!" Harry greeted.

"Hullo, Harry!" greeted Ron.

"Hello Harry! Hello Ronald!" Hermione said brightly. "Aren't you excited about school starting?"

"No!" yelled Ron.

Harry gave Ron a sideways glance. "Er… no. I'm not excited," he said.

Draco Malfoy sauntered into their compartment. "Hello Potty… Weasel… Mudblood…"

A clown appeared behind him, and dumped a vat of whipped cream on Malfoy's head. The clown then honked his nose, and ran down the corridor, spraying random students with motor oil.

"What- the- hell," the heroic trio said.

"Boys, I have a very bad feeling about this," Hermione said.

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Harry, can you honestly say that you've seen a clown on the Hogwarts Express before?" Hermione demanded.

"Erm… no…."

"I have!" Ron said.

Hermione sighed impatiently. "Besides the one we just saw, Ronald."

"Oh…" Ron said, looking abashed.

"Besides," Hermione continued briskly, "it clearly states in _Hogwarts, A History_ that clowns are not allowed on school grounds or the Hogwarts Express."

Harry and Ron stared at her.

"Why?" Ron asked.

"Oh, for heaven's sakes Ron! Haven't you been paying attention in History of Magic?" she snapped.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron said. "When has anyone other than you paid attention in History of Magic?"

Hermione sighed with the air of a martyr. "The Clown Uprising of 1782! Clowns demanded entry into Hogwarts for the ability to make huge whipped cream pies and being able to pull flowerpots out of their arses. When they were refused, all hell broke loose."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, and burst out laughing. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life, Hermione!" Ron gasped.

"Yeah, do you honestly think we're going to believe that?" Harry asked.

Hermione stamped her foot. "It's true!"

But Harry and Ron just kept laughing at her.

Those poor boys. They had no idea that at that precise moment, the scarlet Hogwarts Express turned banana yellow with cerulean and carnation pink polka dots and grew a large clown nose on the front.

The clowns had returned.

And all hell was, once again, about to break loose.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know it's short. I just am very orderly and wanted it to be neatly sectioned. Or something like that. 


	2. The Rubber Ducky on the Hill

A/N: BWUHA! I HAVE ONCE AGAIN RETURNED TO TERRORIZE THE MASSES WITH MY INSANITY AND STUPIDITY! Hey… I forgot a disclaimer last time. Oops. Anyway, I'd say I hope you liked the last chapter, and will like this one, but honestly I don't care. This is all for my own amusement. And because I have writer's block with everything else I'm working on- original work and FanFiction alike.

Double Disclaimer: The author owns nothing. Except for the stuff she made up. Ooooh, helpful, isn't it?

* * *

Hermione spent the rest of the ride on the newly clownified Hogwarts Express trying to convince Harry and Ron that she wasn't joking about the Clown Uprising of 1782. However, in between fits of laughter, they were busy eating lots of sweets and candies, and paid absolutely no attention to her. Not much of a change from normal circumstances, but still frustrating. So Hermione finally gave up and started reading her textbooks.

However, they had developed an odd habit of squirting her in the eye with shaving cream every time she opened one, or turned a page. _God damned clowns_, she thought bitterly.

No more clowns entered their compartment, but through the windows they could see clowns chasing students everywhere with large pies and buckets of olive oil. At least, Hermione saw this, but the boys were too busy stuffing their faces and laughing to notice.

The blissful ignorance of Misters Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley was shattered as they stepped off the train onto the Hogsmead platform. They stared around at be-whip-creamed students, along with other students gleaming with olive oil.

Clowns were everywhere.

"You were serious, weren't you, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Of course I was!" she shouted, stomping her foot, and sending up a wave of olive oil. "Why would I joke about something like a Clown Uprising? Do you know how lethal these guys can be?"

Ron laughed at her. "Hermione, they're _clowns_," he said.

Hermione glared at him. "Ronald, let me paint a little mental picture for you. Hogwarts now has the equivalent of seven thousand Peeveses. Does that get the point through your head?"

Ron paled.

"Either that or 4,000 pairs of Fred and George," she continued.

Ron paled more. "Oh," he said hoarsely. "Okay."

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. "I don't think I like Hogwarts anymore," he mumbled.

Hermione pointed up the hill to where Hogwarts was supposed to be. "But Harry… it's not Hogwarts anymore."

Upon the hill, in the place of Hogwarts, was a very large rubber ducky.

"What the hell?" Harry shouted. "A rubber ducky?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is now Rubber Ducky School of Clowncraft and Stupidity. The clowns are back. And they've taken over."

As if to emphasize this point, a clown rode by on a unicycle and threw three large key lime pies in their faces.

"What the hell?" Harry shouted again.

* * *

A/N: You know what I've decided? I'm going to keep doing short chapters. BWUHAHA! 


	3. Just a Hazing Exercize?

A/N: Tada! Time for an update! You know, I think I'll alternate updating this fic and my other one. If you want to read that one, see the little thing that says "Lordy Duffano" at the top of the page? CLICK IT! And then spread the word of my genius… BWUHA!

Disclaimer: Yes, ladies and gentlemen, she still doesn't own anything. There has not been a dramatic shift in fates that caused J. K. Rowling to decide to share the rights to Harry Potter with a random high school kid. Nothing has changed since my last disclaimer.

A/N: You know, that makes me realize that I agree with some of the people who want us only to have to disclaim it once in one shebang. It's practical, less annoying, and still disclaims it. I mean, honestly, do they think the readers here are so stupid that they can't remember that the writers here do not own what they're writing about? From chapter to chapter? Anyway, little rant over… I'll get to the amusing stuff.

* * *

The first years where taken away to attempt to unicycle across the lake, and the reast of the student were forced to ride up to Hogwarts- er- Rubber Ducky in the tiny clown cars used in cartoon circuses. Finally at the steps leading to the castle- I mean- rubber ducky, they tumbled out of their cars, complaining.

A clown gave them all pies to stop their complaining. But they were very special pies, as the students found out when they peered closer. A large boxing glove on a spring popped out of the pies, and smacked them all in the face. Amidst the angry howls of the students, the clown honked his nose and ran inside.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still fuming when they got inside. "This is like constantly being at the mercy of your brothers!" she yelled at Ron.

"Well why are you yelling at me? I didn't bring them here!" he yelled back.

Harry pulled out his wand, intending to end one of the famous Hermione-Ron rows. Since their seemed to be no rules, he was at least going to take advantage of it now…

However, when he reached into his pocket, he pulled out a rubber chicken. _What the hell?_ he thought. Then he shrugged, and hit Ron and Hermione over the head with it.

"OW!" they yelled.

Hermione noticed what he was holding. "Harry, why did you just hit us over the head with a rubber chicken?"

"Well, to stop you from arguing. But my wand turned into it."

"Sounds like a Fred and George product," Ron said, pulling out his own wand, and revealing a rubber chicken as well.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," Hermione said, extracting her own rubber chicken wand. "How could they plant that many fake wands? I mean look, Parvati's wand has turned into a rubber chicken too. And Dean's. And Goyle's. Except he apparently thinks it's real, and is eating it. Oh dear."

"Yeah," said Harry, looking around the Great Hall. You see, there wasn't much difference on the inside of the castle. Except everything was painted yellow. And there were rubber ducks everywhere.

They sat down at the Gryffindor table, and waited for the Sorting to begin.

However, the clown that had led the first years across the lake came in unaccompanied. He announced to the Hall, "I'm sorry, all of the first years, er, seem to have drowned. They're not very good at holding their breaths, see? And, um…"

Several students with first year siblings burst into tears. Most of them yelled "What the hell?" But a few yelled, "FINALLY! I have my own room at last!"

The students fell silent. They didn't know what was coming. With no Sorting, and no Dumbledore, what was going to happen next?

Well, actually, Dumbledore was still there. He was just locked in a cupboard in his office, with a little bowl of cereal and a little bottle of carrot juice. But that's not really important, because it's not likely that the clowns will let him out anytime soon. Anyway, back to the Great Hall.

The clown sitting in Dumbledore's seat stood up, and signaled to someone.

Clowns ran down the rows of the House tables, and dumped maple syrup on the students. A second waved ran down, and dumped ice cream on them. And then a final wave ran down the rows hitting the students with umbrellas.

"I hate this place," Harry said, sticky, milky, and sore from the umbrella beating.

"Well you know," Hermione said. "I don't think it'll be so bad. I mean, maybe this is just sort of a hazing exercise! Maybe we'll learn something new and exciting this year!" Her eyes sparkled with the thought of more knowledge that she could soak up.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, and began beating Hermione with their rubber chickens.

* * *

A/N: YAY! I love writing this. And that's all that matters! BWUHA, BWUHA, BWUHAHAHAHA! (author goes into maniacal laughing spree) Anyway, now I feel like answering reviewers. Even though I don't think any of my reviews for this had much substance.…

Nanners: YAY! I LURVE YOU NANNERS! Sorry everyone, I actually know her, I'm not just being insane. Anyway, yes, it shall be horrible at school. Pies and gratuitous violence! Mmmm, my favorite!

Bradude03: I'm happy you like insanity. Insanity is good. But only in moderation. Hence the short chapters. I can't bear writing something this stupid for long lengths of time, and you guys can't handle _reading_ something this stupid for long lengths of time.

Er… Nanners under her pen name…: I STILL LURVE YOU NANNERS!

Penpal13: Yay! Someone finally likes it when I go on sugar highs!

Dream Phantom apparently thinks it's cute. And… that's all their review said. Um… no comment?

And Esteem! My fellow theatre dork! Yay! I'm glad you like the weirdness. I agree, god damned clowns…

And that's everyone. Tada.


	4. Ridiculous Ailments

A/N: I HAVE SOMETHING OF UTMOST IMPORTANCE TO SAY! Well, not really. I have nothing to say. So this Author's Note is really rather pointless.

Disclaimer: HEY! GUESS WHAT! NOTHING'S CHANGED SINCE LAST CHAPTER! JUST READ THE FLIPPING STORY!

* * *

"I fail to see why you just _had_ to beat me with the rubber chickens," Hermione snapped.

"You were being a nerd," Ron explained. "It was for your own good. If we hadn't done it, someone else would have."

Hermione opened her mouth to yell at him. But someone interrupted her by screaming down the corridor, "It's the big clown balloons!"

"The big clown balloons?" Hermione repeated, confused.

A large rubber ball bounced down the hall and hit Ron in the face. Harry laughed at him. But then another ball bounced down the hall and hit Harry in the face. Harry promptly stopped laughing, mostly because the ball had inexplicably become wedged in his mouth.

Hermione stared at him, and then pulled the ball out of his mouth.

"Thanks," he said.

Parvati ran by, chased by an inexplicably animate macramé wall hanging. A clown followed her, swinging a home scanner in a wildly dangerous manner.

"This is too weird," Harry noted.

Hermione stared at him. "What was your first clue?"

Harry realized that there really was no answer to this that wouldn't make him seem like a moron, and so he led the way up to Gryffindor tower. The three managed to succesfully dodge the maniac clowns for the most part. Granted, they arrived in front of the Fat Lady in a bad state nonetheless. Harry's shirt had inexplicably turned fuschia when a clown threw some poinsettias at him, Ron was sporting a lot of paper cuts from when they had to fight their way through a flock of origami cranes that came out of a clown's nose when he sneezed, and Hermione-

Well, Hermione wasn't really affected at all. She had gotten quite good at warding things off with her rubber chicken.

So, anyway, they arrived in front of the Fat Lady in a haggard state, but not as bad as the others. There was a large blob of shaving cream in the corner that turned out to be Neville in the fetal position; Wood was trying to ward off a giant container of pumpkin juice that seemed to view him as a victorious coach and was trying to dump its contents on his head; Seamus's head was encased in a way too friendly suitcase; and the others were afflicted in the same manner, or worse.

The only people who weren't affected at all were Fred and George. Apparently their own pranking made them particularly adept at avoiding the pranks of others. Or the clowns recognized them as a sort of kindred pair of spirits, and left them alone.

"I think I'm going to enjoy myself this year," Fred said.

"Too right you are, my devious twin," agreed George. "This year will most certainly be the best ever."

Hermione looked frightened. "Tell me you're not going to continue with your high jinks now that _they're_ here!" she said.

The twins considered for a moment. "Probably not," George said.

"But," Fred said, "we'll just really enjoy ourselves to watch complete mayhem and not have to exert any effort at all."

"And now, I think we all deserve the relative safety of our common room," George said. "Fred, the password!"

"Mimble wimble double duty bubble gum hiccups health plans summer dragon eggs," Fred said promptly.

"I'm _never_ gonna remember that!" Neville groaned.

Fred and George smiled their identical evil grins. "Don't worry, Neville, that's not the real password," Fred said.

"Then what is?" asked Wood, who had failed to avoid the pumpkin juice vat and was now dripping pumpkin juice.

"Kerflump," the twins said in unison.

"Kerflump?" Hermione repeated. "What kind of password is that?"

"Are you saying that all the other ones we've had aren't random?" George asked.

"Well, no… but this one's worse."

"Well, we didn't make it up," George said. "So why are we standing around out here?" He walked up to the Fat Lady. "Kerflump," he said.

As she swung open, the Fat Lady was reported to have said, "Stupid clowns."

The Gryffindors flooded into their common room with relief. They were too tired to even care that all the furniture had somehow been transferred to the ceiling, and just filtered off to their dorms.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, I have had an idea of how the rest of the thing will go. Just so it has some semblance of a plot. Not the plot of any of the books, since this isn't any specific year, despite the various restrictions placed on it by who's still at Hogwarts in which year. So yeah, don't hold me to anything since Oliver's still there, and the twins and stuff. Just go with it. 


	5. Nursery Rhymes and Bang Flags

A/N: You see, the problem with me never writing notes on this stuff is that I forget what I'm going to do. So you know that bombabulous (my new word, I was hyper yesterday) idea I had last chapter about a semblance of a plot for this? Yeah, I forgot it. So I guess you guys won't have a plot. Judging from your reactions, I don't think you mind much. However, my writer's spleen (I have decreed that I have multiple spleens so that whenever someone gravely insults one of my areas of interest I can claim that my spleen just ruptured. Guess what happens when I read Mary Sues!) really would like a plot. Actually, I think I remember what my plot idea was. So that's what I'm going with now, even if it was something else.

Oh yeah, and this chapter is going to be decidedly stupid. Possibly more so than before. Mostly because this chapter is the result of a half-hour long conversation with the freshmen on the way home from school. Don't believe me? Wait and see. I dunno if I'll put the plot in yet. I'll probably never get around to it…

Disclaimer: Warning, road washed out. Detour. I SAID DETOUR DAMMIT! … This way down the disclaiming rabbit hole to the magical world of Disgruntled Creators Land.

Dude… what am I _on_?

* * *

"This how we put on clothes, put on clothes, put on clothes. This is how we put on clothes, early in the morning," sang Ron as the boys were getting dressed the next morning.

"This is how we walk downstairs, walk downstairs, walk downstairs. This is how we walk downstairs, early in the morning," sang Ron as the boys walked down the stairs to the common room.

"Fif if 'hw ee oh oo ud oh oo ud oh oo ud. Fif if 'hw ee oh oo ud, eree nn uh orngg," sang Ron through the sock Harry had stuffed in his mouth as the Gryffindors rambled down to breakfast.

Hermione glanced worriedly at Ron at breakfast as he tried to eat some bacon and sing an annoying song that was probably about 'how we eat our bacon', all through a spare sock Harry had randomly found in his school bag. (A/N: Hey, don't make fun… I've found socks in my backpack before.) "Harry," she said, "I'm not sure which worries me the most. The fact that he's trying to eat bacon while singing, the fact that he's trying to do this with your sock in his mouth, or the fact that he still hasn't thought to take your sock out of his mouth."

"It's better than listening to him singing a dumb nursery rhyme," Harry pointed out while calmly buttering his toast.

Hermione pulled Harry's sock out of Ron's mouth and hit him over the head with her rubber chicken. "Stop singing that song!" she shouted.

Ron gave her a curious look. "What song?" he asked.

Hermione's eye twitched. "Never mind," she said, and went back to her breakfast, muttering "God damn clowns."

They all left the subject alone throughout breakfast. They were walking out of the Great Hall when Harry realized something with horror. "Oh no," he said, in a horrified manner befitting the horrific thing he had just horrifically realized. "Hermione, nothing happened during breakfast!"

"And?" she asked while rummaging through her school bag for some random object the author is too lazy to think of.

Ron, who had not been addressed, said "And?" as well, because he felt excluded and that the author wasn't giving him enough credit.

"The clowns! They didn't do anything! And if they're anything like Fred and George…"

"It'll get worse the longer you have to wait for it!" Ron finished, since the author finally realized that she had probably been making Ron way too stupid and had decided to give him an IQ.

A clown popped out of no where, causing Hermione to scream something about Apparation being impossible on Hogwarts grounds according to Hogwarts, A History. The clown was holding a gun. The three dropped their bags and put their hands up.

The clown pulled the trigger, and a flag popped out that read, "BANG!" The clown ran away.

Hermione blinked.

Harry blinked.

Ron blinked.

Then they all went to class. Actually, they really only went to a random classroom with some Gryffindors and sat down, since the clowns hadn't given them schedules or anything yet.

A random clown ran into the room, chucked a grenade at them, and ran out. Before they could react, the grenade exploded-

In a shower of confetti and glitter.

Crookshanks appeared and attacked the confetti. After eating several pieces, her hacked up a confetti-covered hairball. When it hit the ground, a flag popped out of it reading "SPLAT!"

Everyone glanced at each other. Then there was a lot of shouting and a big noise coming from the Entrance Hall. Concerned as to what the clowns were doing now, everyone rushed out into the Entrance Hall.

There was a spent nuclear warhead on the floor, with several unfortunate students trapped under it. A gigantic flag had emerged from the bomb that read:

"REALLY BIG EXPLOSION! No, seriously, you all are, like, dead now. This bomb just completely blew you all to bits. You are SERIOUSLY up a creek without a paddle. I mean, there just aren't words to describe how infinitesimally small you all are right now. Try, like, atom sized. I mean, there's just no way you survived this. Like, any of you. It's just wow. Nothing left. Absolutely nothing. Seriously. Your parents won't even get to bury you. Kinda sad, isn't it? Yeah. Boohoo. I hope you're all paying real close attention, even though you're supposedly dead now. You know what else is sad? It took nine years for the clowns to build this bomb and this flag. It's sorta useless now that I think about it, since you all are dead and can't read anything. But you know, the clowns aren't the most practical of people, and they just sorta do whatever they want. So I guess if they want to waste billions of tax dollars and nine years of their time to build a dumb bomb with a really big 'bang flag' they can. But back to the whole point. This explosion was really big. Like freaking HUGE. I don't even think that Hogwarts if left on the map anymore. Granted, it's probably Unplottable anyway, so I shouldn't really think about that. But I digress. This explosion was so huge. You have absolutely no notion how huge it was. Especially since you're dead and you were all vaporized in an instant. Isn't that fabulous? I mean, it wouldn't be fabulous for you, but it would be fabulous for someone. And this rant is really going to stop making sense soon because the author really just wants this flag to be a page long. Of course, she feels safe saying this now, because the likelihood of you actually paying attention this long is slim. Of course, there are a few who will, so I guess they get a sneak peek. So yeah. Big explosion. FREAKING HUGE EXPLOSION! Ginormous explosion. Enormous explosion. Insanely large explosion. 133t 3xp10si0n. Stupid explosion. Pointless explosion. End of the world explosion. Cataclysmic explosion. Apocalyptic explosion. Almost there…. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! EXPLOSION! EXPLOSION LOVERS WORSHIP ME! Oh yeah, and: MUSHROOM CLOUDNESS! See that little bit of dust? That's probably you. Drifting in the wind. Just… poof. Yes, that's it. POOF! You have gone poof. Poof and goodbye. Because this explosion is really big. A tremendous explosion. Elephantine! And IMMENSE explosion. With a VAST blast radius. Hey that rhymes! Vast blast! It's a vast blast from the past! My my my. You are all dead. All gone. But I must say, you are all looking bombabulously cadaverous today. It's wonderful to see such bombabulously cadaverous people. But I'm actually lying because bombabulous has been created from bombastic (meaning pompous) and cadaverous… well I'm saying you look dead. So you're pompously dead? I don't get it. But it doesn't really matter, since you are, in fact, dead, and you can't do anything about it. Okay, so, this has now started a new page, and even though it technically isn't a full page, this is enough for now. And I shall leave you with these parting words: KERBLAM! KERBLEWY! KERSPLOSION! KERBOOM!"

And then the ginormous flag disappeared.

Hermione put her hand to her head. "I really wish we were drinking age right now," she said tiredly.

"Why?" asked Ron, who had gone back to being stupid because the author felt like it.

"Because then I might find that amusing instead of… stupid."

"Oh."

* * *

A/N: Well, that was fun, wasn't it? Yeah. We were talking about "bang" flags and the different flags that would go with certain firearms. We also decided that those little flags could be quite dangerous if sent off at point-blank range. Especially if those flags were sharp. You could poke someone's eye out with that. Oh, and we also discussed have the bang flags pop out of each other until they impaled a person. I was considering having some random kid killed that way, but decided that would be too gruesome. So yeah. WOOOOOOOOOOO! 


	6. The TimeSpace Continuum

A/N: And so I attempt to write another chapter for Clown School. Let's see how long I last until my pseudo-ADD drags me away to eat cottage cheese or something.

I have no idea if I'm actually going to work a plot into this fic. If you're waiting around for that to happen, I'd advise not doing so. This might end up being a random episodic story.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH ENGLISH CLASS! NOT HUCK FINN AGAIN! NOOOOOOOOOO!

We had an essay prompt about how Huck Finn is an episodic novel. In case you were wondering about my spasm.

Disclaimer: I know this is going to come as a shock to you, but I'm not J.K. Rowling. ("You've lied to me for all this time! HOW COULD YOU?") Actually, I never made a claim to be J. K. Rowling. ("You so did!") Did not. You assumed, because you're deranged. ("DON'T CALL ME DERANGED! Dr. Josenblansky says that I'm improving.") I'm still not J.K. Rowling. ("WE ARE THROUGH, MISSY! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!") This is my house. You get out. ("… Oh. Well. I'M LEAVING! DON'T COME TO MY HOUSE!" :door slam: ) Right….

* * *

­The Gryffindors were gathered in the Common room, staring around at each other. Finally Percy, who had appeared from a hole in the wall, asked, "So, what year are we in?"

Everyone shrugged. Except Hermione, who launched into a longwinded explanation, "Well, that's difficult to figure out, isn't it? What with no classes and all. I mean, if we went off of who's here, it'd have to be third year. However, we're definitely not in third year, because Harry didn't have enough angst to brood in third year."

Everyone turned to look at Harry, who was brooding in a corner. "WHAT?" he shouted at them. "STOP STARING AT ME!" The author fought the urge to have him throw a vase at the wall and burst into tears. Everyone turned around quickly.

Hermione looked vaguely concerned, but plunged back into her highly necessary explanation. "And we don't know what classes, and therefore which year, we're in, because the clowns still haven't given us schedules. Now, if Harry's somehow in N.E.W.T. potions, we know that this is sixth year. However, if Ron and Harry are still in Divination, it must still be fifth year. And if there isn't any Quidditch, then we can assume that this is fourth, or possibly fifth year. It might even be seventh year, if we want to follow which books are out and to maximize the amount of brooding Harry gets to do."

No one was disconcerted whatsoever at Hermione's surprising knowledge of their lives or that they were chronicled in novels. It had probably come to her in a dream or something. Perfectly reasonable.

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain while we're still here," Percy said.

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Maybe you fell through a wormhole in time and are suddenly back in school," she suggested. "You did come out of that hole in the wall."

"Well what about us?" asked Fred.

"You're just that immature," Hermione snapped.

"Or you're the convenient humor device," suggested Ron. Fred and George high fived each other for no particular reason. They might have put Lee's tarantula in the girls' dorms. The world will never know.

Bill randomly fell from the ceiling. Everyone stared at him, and then started laughing. Everyone except for Harry. Harry was too busy brooding to laugh at comically impossible defiance to physics.

"Why am I back in school?" Bill wondered aloud.

"Dad says you're grounded," George said helpfully.

"Mom says you're disowned," Fred said.

Hermione glared at the twins. "We think there's a rip in the fabric of time and space," she explained.

"Oh, all right," Bill said, picking himself up off the floor. "Nothing unusual then."

A convenient thunderstorm appeared over Hogwarts. Meteorologists everywhere were baffled. Thunder struck conveniently close to Gryffindor Tower. The girls and several first year boys screamed. Harry, who was still brooding, was offended by the rain for some inexplicable reason and began scowling at the window. Everyone ignored him, which made him dig the Emo Hole deeper.

All the lights went out, which was weird, since Hogwarts didn't exactly run off of electricity. All of the first years went into hysterics. The older students hastily lit their wands with the _Lumos_ spell. In the light of dozens of wands, most of the first years calmed down. Still, some needed to be given paper bags to breathe into.

Moments later, the lights returned, and the common room fire re-ignited itself. Normality was returned.

At least until the students looked around. At which point they noticed that there were suddenly quite a lot of people there that weren't before. Everyone's immediate thought was that it was a Death Eater attack, and the first years resumed their hysterics, joined by a handful of the weaker minded older students.

Suddenly Harry jumped up onto a table and bellowed, "MUM! DAD! SIRIUS!" This efficiently silenced everyone and they proceeded to take a better look around.

There were indeed Harry's parents, only recognizable because Harry did in fact look exactly like them. Also with them was Sirius, recognizable from the Ministry Wanted posters from third year. Harry threw himself off the table and into their arms.

"I guess there is a rip in the time-space continuum," Hermione said faintly, scanning the room.

Houdini was trying to impress some of the Gryffindors with the cup-and-bean trick. Each time they got it right he got more flustered, and they became more and more impatient with him. Giving up on that particular trick, he proceeded to pretend that he could take off the thumb of his right hand. He received more blank stares. Looking especially disturbed now, he took out some scarves and started juggling them.

"I thought you were supposed to be the best ever!" an uppity second year complained.

"Well in 1883 this was quite impressive! Snotty little brats!" Houdini shouted at her, and stormed off to brood in Harry's former Emo Corner.

There was a flash of lightning accompanied with its thunder. Some random World War II soldiers ducked instinctively. The lights went out again.

When they came back up, the room was bare of random people and filled only with the current Gryffindors. The author gave in to her urges; Harry burst into tears, threw a vase at the wall, and went back to brooding in the corner.

"Oh dear," Hermione said, looking at him, "I don't expect he'll recover from this emotional trauma for at least two chapters…"

"So why are they still here?" Ginny wanted to know, pointing at the twins. "Even Percy and Wood are gone. If Fred and George came through the hole in the continuum…"

"I guess they _are_ so immature that they were sent back to school," Ron answered.

There was a loud sob from the corner. Everyone turned round in surprise to stare at Harry. He threw another vase at them.

* * *

A/N: Yay for brooding! If any of you are offended: shut up. If you get bored in between my updates (as I know they are dismally far apart) go look at my author's profile as I will have semi-regular blog-like entries that might at least tell you why I am not updating. 


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